The weeks following Emmeryn's death were all just a blur. I drifted from consciousness to unconsciousness at random intervals. When I was awake, I could feel a permeating warmth that made me sweat in my cot. I didn't know what the sword hit, but it clearly had a lasting effect. When I was unconscious, though, was when I was at my worst. Mentally, at least. I never awoke rested, and my dreams were plagued by, well, I couldn't remember, but I did wake up several times feeling like I'd just jogged across the entire continent.

There were others with me, who were wounded just like I was. Even my fellow Shepherds. I couldn't get a good look, but I swore I heard Vaike moaning in the night. We didn't stay in any one place for very long, and when we moved on, we were hauled into wagons as gingerly as possible. It didn't make my life any easier, but the sentiment was appreciated.

I redefined my definition of 'hellish' during that journey.

There was a small skirmish during our retreat. I could hear the noises of battle, so close yet so far away. It brought me back to a time where I'd hide underneath the covers trying to block out thunder or shouts. Even then, I couldn't completely drown out the sounds. It felt like soldiers were just outside, and they would slash in at any moment. I could visualize it. The Plegians would cut the fabric open and finish the job they started. At some point, I thought I had a dream like that.

I couldn't even tell if I was afraid of that happening.

The still lucid part of me idly wondered if what was happening was Chapter 10. I couldn't remember the name of the boss of that chapter. Was it Mastufa? Mastofu? Mufasa? I wondered without restraint. The name refused to be pinned down. He was the most sympathetic of the bosses, I remembered. He told his men to retreat if they were unwilling to fight. I pondered just how the chapter was going down. Emmeryn may have died, but the method of her death was very different; it was a deliberate action of someone else instead of suicide; she was never able to give her dying words. I didn't know how anyone would be able to hear it, considering she was high up, but that didn't really matter anymore

In the end, she died unceremoniously, despite our best efforts.

No, I reminded myself, just Robin's. I did fuck all. I may have even made things worse. If Emmeryn didn't give her dying speech, then that meant the Plegians could still be rallied by Gangrel. After all, it was mainly her speech that shook their faith in the Mad King and caused a vast majority of his army to desert.

The battle ended in our victory, if our unimpeded progress afterward was any indication. I felt like I could have done something about - Mostafu? Mustafa? - felt like I could've done something to save him, but of course that would've been impossible.

Knowing me, I'd've just fuck it up somehow.

It wasn't until we got past the Longfort and back behind Regna Ferox's borders that I was able to walk and talk semi-decently. The other Shepherds who had been wounded alongside me began to show signs of recovery as well. Vaike made this extremely clear when he nearly gave me a heart attack while I was lost in thought.

"Hey, Alex, how are ya?" He asked. I didn't respond. His hand fell on my shoulder. "Alex-!"

"Jesus H-!" I blurted out, looking at him wide-eyed. "The hell did you come from!?"

"Er, from my cot. Just over there," He replied, pointing a thumb behind him. "Came in just to check on ya. Was me who pulled you outta that hellhole! Couldn't just let ya die on me after that, could I? Heh, yer a lot heavier than I thought!"

"Are you saying I'm fat, Vaike?" I asked seriously.

"If I wanted to call ya fat, I'd just say it," Vaike countered, sitting down next to me. "What I'm sayin' is ya went down pretty hard back there. Wanted to know if ya were holdin' up alright."

I paused for a moment. "That's, er, surprisingly thoughtful of you, Vaike."

"Hey!" Vaike exclaimed, sounding genuinely offended. "Ya sayin' Teach can't check on how his friends are doin'!? The Vaike knows we're both men and all but-!"

"Okay, okay, fucking hell, not another word," I stopped him, holding a hand up. I looked down, holding my other hand to my stomach. "I guess I'm just, well, I dunno. I feel… wrong. I can't explain it. The healers were all out on the front and shit like that so I can understand them not coming in here. We were all stable, after all, but I just, God, I've never been wounded so badly that I was bedridden."

There was that nasty blow I took to the side back in Southtown, but I had that one healed up quickly. That and the broken arm I got fighting the Risen. The sword to the stomach, though, that one was pretty nasty, so I was told.

Vaike leaned back, eerily silent for a second before he moved back forward. He held his arm up to me. "See this old thing right here?" He asked, pointing to the light scar that went across his forearm. "Got this one back when I was first startin' out. Heh, me an' Chrom were always gettin' into trouble back then. And Sully, damn, she made things worse. Ha!" He stretched, revealing another scar that went across his stomach. "This one kinda ruined my abs, so I'm a bit upset 'bout it. Hurt like a dastard, too. Wasn't able to fight for weeks after that one."

I looked at them, perplexed. My eyes flitted from his still bandaged midsection and back to the scars that adorned his body, visible to me for the first time. "Damn dude. I mean, that sucks. I'm just wondering why you're showing me this."

"Thought it was obvious," Vaike remarked, relaxing. "Been injured badly plenty o' times. This time, too, just like you. Always gotta bounce back, yeah? Can't let a couple o' lil' wounds like these hold us down, right? You'll feel better soon, sure of it! Just gotta get outta this funk. We'll have plenty of time to do that!"

I was about to say something, but before I could a realization hit me. "Vaike, did you get that getting my ass outta the fire?"

"Huh?" Vaike seemed perplexed as he crossed his arms. I noticed the small flinch as he did it a little too harshly, jostling his bandages a little. "I mean, yeah, I did. Nothin' I haven't been through before, though. All the Shepherds've been through some tight spots, and we don't always come out of it alright. This ain't anythin' different."

Despite his words, I couldn't help but feel guilty. It was my fault that he got injured after all. Add on to the fact that it was because I was running towards the Deadlord, something I should've known would rear its ugly armored face again, and I had a perfect recipe for a wave of self-loathing.

I looked down at my covered legs, forcing myself not to look Vaike in the eye. "Hey, uh, Vaike, I'm tired. I think I'll go to sleep for a while."

"Ya sure? Heard a couple people were askin' to see ya earlier. Especially Cordelia. And, seriously, you good? Ain't never seen you so down before." Vaike noticed.

That didn't really help. It actually made me feel more guilty and upset. I recognized what Vaike was doing. The sentiment was appreciated, but it may not have had the effect he wanted it to. Still, couldn't blame him for that. He was just trying to help.

"Y-yeah," I stuttered unexpectedly. "I'm just, really not in the mood right now."

Vaike looked at me for several seconds, probably wondering how he should respond, before he eventually shrugged. "Alright. I'll leave ya to it, then. Like I said, though, you'll be back on your feet and fighting in no time!"

"I'm sure I will," I replied unenthusiastically.

He got up and walked away. True to my word, I did turn onto my side and try to sleep, despite it being early in the evening. I wasn't very successful, and when I did eventually get to sleep hours later, it wasn't as restful as I'd would've liked.

I had too much on my mind. The Deadlord, Emmeryn's death, my injuries, everything.

None of it went away.

We traveled farther into Ferox not long after Vaike tried to cheer me up; nothing more than a week at the most. I was up on my feet again, and the sickness I had was gone, leaving my head clear for the first time in weeks.

The air outside was chilly. A welcome change from the oven that was the Plegian badlands. Not all of Plegia was desert, obviously, but a good portion of it was. Despite my thinking that, it was growing colder in Ferox with each passing day. In just a month, winter would arrive. My first winter in Archanea.

If I was back home, I imagined my dad would be bothering us to start putting up Christmas decorations. The old plastic tree we'd had since I was a toddler would be put up in the family room, while we'd go to a tree market to get a genuine one. We would have spent around an hour decorating it; putting up all our old baubles and other knickknacks we'd gathered over the years. I remembered one of them was the Polar Express, and another was an old Simpsons decoration that used to play some lines from the show. At least before the battery died.

Remembering all of that put me into a sourer mood than usual. Going around camp and marching in formation was difficult for a while.

We regrouped at an old fort, supposedly from the days of the First Exalt. The stonework was practically crumbling, but we set up shop within well enough. We didn't need it for defense anyway. Tents were pitched in the courtyard for all the people who couldn't fit into the meager amount of rooms available. The place would've looked like a circus if all the fabric was multicolored.

Yet another thing I was beginning to miss even more terribly than before.

Maybe it was Emmeryn's death weighing my mind down, but thoughts of home came easier than before. Unlike before, I didn't shut them down so harshly. Was there even an Outrealm Gate? I shelved that question for later.

Regrouping at an old fort also brought back memories of my first night. At least there were no Risen knocking down our door.

I spent my days within that fort training, mostly. With someone or without, I threw myself into it harder than before, if that was even possible. Talking with people increased the chances of running into Chrom or Lissa, after all, and how the hell was I supposed to look them in the eye when it was my own failures that allowed their sister to die?

Of course, Chrom was a training maniac as well, but if I shut myself off from everything completely, people would start asking questions. The last thing I needed was more questions. I already questioned myself enough.

After Robin told me what happened with Emmeryn, I didn't see him for weeks. Not a surprise in and of itself; if I could avoid me, I would. That made it all the more surprising when he approached me one evening.

I was on guard duty. Well, they called it guard duty, but I didn't think we'd have to guard against much. I thought of it more of as an excuse to get us to do something while our leaders planned. With Robin among them, I was sure it wouldn't be much longer.

I just stood up, arms crossed, looking at the setting sun. I heard him before I saw him.

He came right up beside me and followed my gaze to the horizon.

He spoke first. "Alex," He said simply.

"Robin," I replied.

Awkward silence followed afterward, neither of us coming up with something to say. A cold breeze ruffled my clothes and hair, and I shivered slightly. I didn't mind it so much.

"I have seen you, Alex," He said finally, turning to look at me. "You have been running yourself ragged since you've become able. It is not healthy. At this rate, your body will give out before the end of the war."

I took a deep breath and turned my head to him in kind. Robin looked a little different from the last time I saw him. The beginnings of bags underneath his eyes, and a slumped posture were the most telling clues as to how he handled Emmeryn's death.

Oh look, another thing that is your fault. Let's add that to the pile, boy scout.

"And what of it, Robin?" I asked. "I'm actually surprised you care, considering what happened to Emmeryn. If I was you, I'd want to wring my neck."

Robin visibly flinched when I mentioned Emmeryn's name, and I could see his brow twitch. "Neither of us took the Deadlord into account. That was our failure. It would not be right to solely blame you for the plan going awry," He brought his gloved hands up to his face, massaging his temples. "I should have taken that into account and adjusted accordingly, especially after you gave me all of that information. I was just… so focused on getting her home, that the Deadlord slipped my mind entirely. I should have-"

I turned completely. "Robin, let's be real here, I'm the one who should've said something about the Deadlord. I'm the one who should've reminded you, who should've done something! Instead, I just sat on my ass letting all these chances pass me by, waiting for the last moment to even consider doing something, and what happens? I fuck up. I fucked up, and now Emmeryn is dead. Never blame yourself for my mistakes, you hear me?"

My voice was steadily rising as I went off. Robin was silent, letting me finish.

"We could stand here all-day casting blame on ourselves," Robin said quietly. "That will not accomplish anything. The only thing either of us can do, is move forward. Chrom will need everyone's support in the coming battles. We will not lose this war, and when that future you told me of comes to pass, we will meet it with all of our might. This is the only thing we can do now."

"Huh, keep moving forward, then?" I echoed, looking down at my feet. "Oh, yeah, I can't wait to murder more of my fellow man and abominations from the sky. That's so much fun, right? Just keep moving forward through it. Yeah, sure, keep moving forward through the blood, sweat, and tears and what will you find on the other side? A mountain of corpses," I realized what I was saying, and just sighed, rubbing the back of my neck and looking back to the frozen landscape. "I'm sorry. It's just been a rough few days for me."

"And it has been for me as well, and yet you don't seem me ranting," Robin shot back. I flinched. I deserved that, I guess. "I understand, somewhat. Emm's death has affected us all, not just you and me. All I am saying is to take better care of yourself. Yes, I realize I am in no position to lecture you on this, but my words should be heeded all the same. Despite our coldness as of late, I still care about you."

"Fuck, man," I cursed, breathing in and out to see the cold mist reflect the dwindling sunlight. "I seriously wonder why. I certainly don't give a damn about myself anymore. After all, what kind of an asshole lets a woman die because of his own fear? Someone who doesn't deserve to be a hero, let me tell you," I shook my head. "Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?"

"I can offer no advice as to your aspirations," Robin said, putting his hands behind his back and straightening up. "I do care, though. Despite your mistakes, I still consider you a friend. I've had precious few of those in the short time I can remember. You never complained about my ramblings, and you even sought me out on multiple occasions. The only person to ever do that other than you, is Chrom. So, understand, when I hear you speak as you just did, it makes me worry."

"You really shouldn't," I replied, a humorless chuckle escaping my mouth. "I've always been this way, Robin. Before I was here, my life was heading nowhere. I was basically only going to college because everyone told me that's where you go. All it got me was a potentially useless degree and a whole shitload of debt. All the ingredients you need for a failure. That changed when I came here. Thought it did, at least. Instead, I found out I'm still the pathetic failure I was when I came here a couple months ago. The simplest of changes for the better, and I couldn't bring myself to do it in time. I am horrible, Robin. You really shouldn't worry about me."

"No matter what you think of yourself, or what you tell me not to do, I will worry. You are my friend, Alex." Robin said resolutely. "It's getting late. I shall leave you to your duty. Remember what I said."

I didn't have the heart to look Robin in the eye. Even after I heard him begin to walk away from me.

Keep moving forward, huh?

I perked up. "Robin." I called.

He stopped and turned around.

"In two years," I began, holding up two fingers. "There will be an invasion. What do you know about Valm?"

I wasn't sure how long we spent gathering our forces and making plans in that old fortress. My guess would be around a couple weeks at the most. As far as I knew, Chrom had cooled off from his sister being murdered, and was actively participating in the planning. I'd also heard that a woman had been seen going to and from his quarters. Seemed baby Lucina wouldn't be far off now, if my suspicions were correct.

Not that it really mattered. Not then. At that moment, there were other things that needed to be taken care of.

I had to admit, I was scared. More scared than I'd been before. The coming battle was, to put it bluntly, up in the air. Emmeryn's death was a lot less poetic and shit; the people that followed Gangrel wouldn't have been 'moved' by her words like in canon. Which meant we could've been dealing with a much larger army.

Overall, things were looking pretty damn dire. So, I did the only thing I really could to make sure I didn't curl up into a ball on the floor and cry.

"Ah, Donny, there you are," I said, bumping into the purple-haired country boy in the courtyard of the fortress.

"G-golly, Alex! Ya done gave me goosebumps!" Donnel exclaimed, rubbing his shoulders. "Ain't sure if it was that or the gosh darn cold. Ain't never got this cold back at the farm!"

Despite my overall mood, I couldn't help but chuckle. "Heh, yeah. Didn't get this cold back where I came from either," I coughed. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you. About what's coming up and shit like that."

"Er, not sure what there's to talk 'bout, but sure." Donnel replied with a hint of hesitation. "Think we gotta good chance to win, yeah?"

"Well, uh, yeah," I said half-heartedly, gesturing to a door. "Let's get inside; I think my fingers are about to snap off."

He nodded, and we retreated into the depths of the fort. The cold wind shrieked outside as I closed it.

"Yeah, Donny, I'm actually really worried," I started, sitting down in a nearby chair. "I know you probably don't wanna hear this crap, hell, I wouldn't. But I just gotta get this off my chest, you know?"

"It's gonna be fine, though, right?" Donnel replied, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. "We got you and His Majestyfulness and Robin and all the others! I can't right see a way for us to lose if we play all our cards right. 'Sides, we can't lose! Promised ma I'd come back home and so I will!"

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds, honestly stunned by his words and the conviction he spoke them with. "I really wish I had your optimism," I finally murmured. "I dunno. Maybe it's pre-battle jitters, but I've just got this horrible feeling. Feels like something very, very bad is gonna happen. Like with- Like with Emmeryn."

"Aw, I ain't no good with this," Donnel admitted sheepishly, adjusting the tin pot on his head. "Was never good at making folks feel all better. Pa was always like that, though. He could talk a cow into a ditch if ya gave him half a chance!" He laughed a little. "But, Alex, maybe it won't be all roses and fields after this whole nasty business is over and done with. Still, we gotta make it through, don't we? Can't just give up 'fore we even give it our all!"

I looked down at my lap. "So, you're basically saying, 'keep moving forward'?"

"Ain't exactly sayin' that," Donnel shook his head. "Sayin' we need to go and tackle that no good King Gangrel! We gotta, for all the people back home! If we just up and left, he'd just do what he wants! As long as ya have somethin' to fight for, ya better!"

"'Something to fight for', huh?" I echoed.

Some part of me believed Donnel, but that part of me also came to a disturbing conclusion. I, essentially, had nothing to fight for. Nothing except my own half-baked ideals. Fear overrode those easily. What Donnel said made sense. I just lacked it.

I continued to look down at my lap for a while. I could hear Donnel shuffling around awkwardly nearby.

"You know, Donny, you aren't bad at motivating people," I remarked. "I mean, I still feel like something bad could happen, but I feel a bit, er, at ease? If that makes sense?"

"Aw, shucks, I'm just glad I could help at all!" Donnel laughed. "Mighty kind o' ya to say such though, Alex!"

Despite my bad mood from the past few weeks, I found myself smiling. "Yeah, yeah. You know, Donny, you're like the little brother I never had. Had a sister before but, well, she's kinda far away now."

"Don't I know 'bout being far away!" Donnel agrees, looking to the door. "Thank ya, Alex. Really kind 'o ya to say! Gotta go and talk to a few folks, though."

"Yeah, don't worry. I won't keep you," I said, waving. "See ya later!"

He left a few seconds later, leaving me in the small room in the fort. I leaned forward, lacing my fingers to hold my head up.

The conversation was nice. For once, it didn't get heavy as all hell.

Despite that, though, I still couldn't get the pit out of my stomach. True, I felt better, but something just didn't feel right. Something bad was going to happen, I knew it. His words did help, though. They really did.

There was nothing much I could do beyond that. All I could really do, was wait. The battle would go whichever way it pleased, and canon was effectively out of the window. Whatever happened, I just hoped the casualties on our side were to a minimum, just like they'd been so far.

I wasn't sure how I'd handle having more deaths on my conscious.

My mood drastically changed in the short amount of time it took for the news of Gangrel's army marching to reach the crumbling fort. It went from dread and feeling like something horrible was going to happen to this sort-of tense anticipation that made me look behind my back like I was expecting a Plegian to emerge out of the old stonework and try to strike me down. No matter what, I could not calm down.

That was a common problem for me during our time at that old fort. Sleep was not restful in the slightest. All my thoughts were dedicated to the coming battle. The final battle.

It was truly to be a final battle, just like the game. From what I understood, Gangrel's tactics were not reasonably sound. He was marching straight towards the Longfort, clearly attempting to get us to come to him. Banking on Chrom supposed bloodlust, probably. Last I'd heard, he was camped in an area called the 'Old Altean Wasteland'. The ruins of a two-thousand-year-old kingdom, once ruled by Chrom and Lissa's ancestors, were no doubt used to shield the invading Plegians from the harsh winds of that area.

It was an insult. Plain and simple. A way to further goad our forces into striking first. It was blatantly obvious. Robin, Chrom, and everyone knew that. Yet, we were going to intercept him anyway. While Gangrel's tactics were focused on psychological warfare, they did not account for numbers, or the fact that Chrom was not foaming at the mouth, ordering us to cut off and bring Gangrel's head to him. In fact, Chrom was eerily calm. As far as I could tell, anyway. I still avoided him the best I could without making myself conspicuous. Our army, while not vast, was still considerable. In his attempt to antagonize Chrom, Gangrel apparently decided to forgo summoning his main army, which was still occupying Ylisstol and battling the main Feroxi forces. This meant the numbers were more even all around. They still had more than us, though.

In the end, Gangrel had failed at making Chrom stark-raving mad. Instead, he probably hardened his resolve. With Robin's tactics on our side, despite the number disparity, I was left wondering why I felt so nervous and horrible. The guilt for allowing Emmeryn to die was still there, and I doubted it would ever go away, but beyond that, I was starting to feel a little better.

I knew I couldn't avoid Chrom and Lissa forever, though. Especially if I wanted to stay with the Shepherds after the war. I still hadn't gotten my paycheck, after all.

All in all, we had a bigger chance than I'd thought.

It still wasn't optimal. Things could still go either way, depending on the tactics used by either side. It was just a matter of waiting.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for some people in the army, it meant we were leaving the old fort. I'd miss the cool, crisp air, but not much else. That being said, it also meant that we had a very long and tedious task ahead of us.

Christ, how much stuff did we pack!?

"Hey, Cordy," I called to my red-headed companion. She was helping me, and with it we were almost done moving all of our supplies. "I've got a question."

"Sure. What's on your mind?" Cordelia asked, still wearing her pegasus knight armor. She picked up a crate and walked alongside me.

"We have an entire army out there, full of people who aren't us, who could do the exact same thing we're doing right now in about half the time. Why aren't they at least helping us?"

I may have been a bit cranky, what with my lack of sleep. It wasn't difficult carrying all of our supplies out, well, some of them. Most of the Shepherds got their portion done already. We, on the other hand, were getting the absolute last of it.

Cordelia let out a breath. "Because these are our supplies, Alex. You can try and convince the Feroxi to carry our supplies for us. I'm not convinced they wouldn't fight you for it."

I opened my mouth to form a reply but couldn't think of one. So, I just looked like a moron.

I grumbled out an incoherent response instead.

"I don't understand why you're so averse to this," Cordelia said as we approached the wagons, the cold air making a shiver run up my spine. "This is excellent endurance practice! The more we do this, the easier the marches will be. Not that I like it, mind you."

"Again, with the training and practice," I mumbled, shoving the last crate onto the wagon. "I guess you're right. Besides, the Feroxi would probably fight me and then hang my body from the walls of Bellator." Cordelia flinched, and I hastily backpedaled. "Yeah, kinda fucked up that I said that. My bad."

She nodded. "Yes, that is an unpleasant image," After a few seconds of silence, she continued. "Speaking about training, you have been doing so non-stop since you were able to walk. Almost more than me when," She trailed off.

I didn't say anything for a couple moments. Leaning against the wagon, I took a deep breath. "Well, it's a lot of things. Where we're going, for starters. I don't feel like I'm about to vomit at almost every moment anymore out of nervousness, but it's still a bit stifling, I guess? Just trying to keep myself busy and shit."

"I feel as if we've had this conversation before," Cordelia remarked, sitting on the floor of the wagon. "Only with me on the other side. I'm here to talk if you need to, Alex. Gods know you've done the same for me these past few months."

"It's really nothing to worry about," I attempted to assuage, waving my hand lazily. "Been that way before we even met. Just nerves and shit, I guess. Like I said, need to do something or I'll end up jittering up and down the walls. "

"Are you sure?" Cordelia asked, leaning forward with one brow raised. "You mentioned before that being far from your family has been stressful for you. Add that, along with the injury you sustained, and you're beginning to worry me. Are you sure nothing is wrong? Anything you want to tell me?"

I almost did. Right then and there I felt a crack in the dam. Just a little more push and I'd collapse into a sobbing mess. I couldn't have that happen. I refused to allow it. With all my might I stopped my mask from breaking. I gave a halfhearted chuckle.

"Seriously, I'm fine," I said, trying my damnedest to ensure my voice didn't crack. "Like I said, pre-battle jitters. Once the fighting is over, I'll be back to my usual self. Well, this is pretty much my usual self. Never mind, then." Continuing nervously, I pushed a crate farther into the wagon. Cordelia slid off and frowned at me.

"If that is truly the case," She began, turning around. "Know that my door is always open if you wish to talk. It's the least I can do to repay you. See you in the morning."

With that, she walked off. I didn't know where, since we were done. Probably to sleep.

I had to physically restrain myself from going after her.

The night before we left, just about an hour after the wagons were loaded for the march to the Old Altean Wastelands, I got invited to something that I would have, in any other circumstance, refused. The game night group was going to have a small get-together just before lights out. All I knew was where it would happen, and that alcohol would be involved.

I was averse to alcohol on an almost instinctual level. Whenever it was mentioned, I would become uncomfortable, and if I smelled it on someone's breath, I'd be sent into full-blown panic mode. The details as to why I felt so strongly about it were not important. What was important was my reaction to it.

Nonetheless, after a while of hesitation, I decided to go. The little meet-up was held in a nondescript room. When I opened the door, I was greeted by a familiar sight.

"Ah, there he is!" Gaius exclaimed, getting up from his half-broken chair and leading me in. "You're always late, you know that, Sailor? And here I was thinking I'd actually started it at an alright time."

"Yeah," I sniffed. "Couldn't start without me, could you?"

"Ha! I tried to get 'em to start," Sully explained, kicking her feet up on the old table. "Couldn't, though. Just kept goin' on and on about how it didn't feel right to just leave ya out of it."

"Ya see, what she means to say, Alex, is that she was the one who said we should wait. Har!" Vaike got a punch to the shoulder for that. He tried to play it off, but I could see him flinch as he rubbed it. "Damn, Sully, that almost hurt me. Keep trainin' and someday ya might gimme a bruise!"

"Oh, I'll give ya a bruise ya jack-!"

"Ladies, ladies! Please, you're both pretty!" Gaius held a hand up, causing the bickering muscleheads to stop. "Er, forget what I just said. But yeah, calm down. You're scaring the kid."

"I ain't scared of 'em, Mr. Gaius," Donnel denied, although the way the old wooden chair he was sitting was leaning, it was clear he was a bit unnerved by the possibility of a fight breaking out between them. "Think we can start with what ya wanted to do, though. Mean, we gots to get up tomorrow all bright and early-like, right?"

"That we do, Farmboy, that we do," Gaius agreed, sitting down easily at the table. "Come on, Sailor."

I nodded, sitting down at the last available seat. The chair creaked as I sat in it.

"So, we go to battle tomorrow," Gaius started, leaning back. "Horrible business, all of it. Couldn't really do much in an open battle even if I wasn't a thief by trade. But anyway, this ain't about that. Bubbles gave me a mission to go and rob some old castle or another. A completely government-sanctioned robbery, I'll have you know. Got him what he wanted, but I also found this-" He pulled out a bottle and put it on the table, it's red glass shimmering in the little light available. "-in the old wine cabinet this old dastard had. Thought we could all share it before we go off to fight."

Vaike looked unimpressed for a second before his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets looking at the label. "I-is- is that- is that Altean Red 981!? Y-Ya can't be serious!"

Sully guffawed. "By Gods! This night just got a whole lot better!"

"Er, I don't right know myself about all this wine business," Donnel added awkwardly.

"What's so special about it, Gaius?" I asked.

"What's so special about it? Listen to yourself, Sailor! This wine is worth its weight in gold!" He explained dramatically. "Actually, it's not. But it is rare. Might be one of the last bottles of it on the continent. And we're gonna drink it."

I felt uneasy, but maybe the mood of Sully and Vaike was getting to me; I actually didn't feel revolted at the thought.

"Now, usually you'd drink this kinda wine with a specially made glass while basking in the moonlight of a warm Rosannean night, but we don't have that luxury, so I got us a few mugs."

True to his word, he brought out wooden mugs. Nothing special. Didn't have to be, though. After a small amount of trouble opening it, the wine was poured into the mugs. It had just enough to fill the five of them.

"Alright, everyone, it's been nice knowing you!" Gaius said, holding up his mug. "Anything happens to any of you during the battle, I'll be sure to visit your grave!"

A toast followed; all of us banged our mugs together like barbarians. I think I enjoyed that part the most. When I eventually convinced myself to actually drink, I realized the taste wasn't too bad either.

It wasn't a bad last night.

This is it bois. We in the endgame of Act 1. Just two more chapters and I'll consider Act 1 of this fic done, and we head into what I have planned for the timeskip. Hopefully it'll go over as well as this Act did with you guys.

Chapter 15 is already finished at the time of writing this AN, and lemme tell ya... It was an emotionally taxing chapter to write. You'll see why when You see it next week.

And here, before I forget, our Discord server: discord .gg/9XG3U7a

Edited on 2/20/21. This Chapter is really, really sad if you look back on it later.